Time has afforded us some perspective since Californians rejected then Governor Schwarzenegger's special election pet propositions in 2005. Since they said no to surrendering control of the state budget to the whimsy of the executive branch; no to unaccountable gerrymandering; no to silencing the voice of the working class; no to making it even more difficult for our best and brightest to choose teaching as a profession.

The swaggering, accented, tough-talking machismo disappeared, remade overnigTime has afforded us some perspective since Californians rejected then Governor Schwarzenegger's special election pet propositions in 2005. Since they said no to surrendering control of the state budget to the whimsy of the executive branch; no to unaccountable gerrymandering; no to silencing the voice of the working class; no to making it even more difficult for our best and brightest to choose teaching as a profession.

The swaggering, accented, tough-talking machismo disappeared, remade overnight, not unlike the application of a Hollywood tan, into a coalition-building, olive branch-extending, centrist who only had the best interests of the state and its people at heart. A people that turned out in low numbers, typically an advantage for Republicans, to vote in the most expensive election, special or otherwise, in the state's history.

Soon gone, too, was the lofty 65% approval rating enjoyed by the governor, which right-wing pundits dismissed as not maintainable, yet which in its time served as the impetus for corporate and far-right elements to pen the aforementioned cynical legislation under that banner of all things just and good in governance, mandate. It echoes still in the Wisconsins and the Minnesotas of 2011.

Still, California is on the margin of national politics, where President Bush's agenda was, likewise, suffering setbacks. We heard of rumors that the simple, plain-talking Texan had grown sullen; that he was more likely to direct frustrated anger rather than the good-natured slap on the back to any number of nicknamed underlings. And he, too, attempted, in the wake of failed policies, to remake himself.

The Bush 43 administration repackaged Manifest Destiny v2.0, proposing that they weren't the only ones that thought Iraq was out to get us. We could finally embrace France, Russia, and the United Nations in this: that Saddam Hussein was going to send anthrax through the mail and shower various biological agents on us from converted crop dusters and fly nuclear-tipped remote controlled airplanes into our bedrooms unless we acted quickly, no matter preemptively. No matter the foreign powers mentioned refrained from invasion themselves. No matter nothing resembling weapons of mass destruction were ever found. No matter innocents suffered and died for a lie.

Neither George W. Bush nor Arnold Schwarzenegger ever went to war, yet both owe their careers to its application: Dubya springboarded into public service from a few passes over parades during the greatest conflict of his young life, and Arnold, perhaps working through the neuroses of his father's fascism, or perhaps exploiting our own watered down and distinctive stripe, dispatched assorted villains of the celluloid variety in his prime.

My great-uncle, however, did go to war, though I doubt very much he would think he benefited from it. He was a captain in the 8th Air Force and piloted numerous missions in a B-17 over Nazi-occupied Europe. He dropped lots of bombs. He saw friends lose their lives. He feared for his own. He was shot down and spirited back to England only to be put back in a plane and made to drop more bombs. Towards the end of the war, after the skies had been wiped clean of the Luftwaffe, he carried the no less lethal payload of military intelligence officers on his flights as they would survey the damage wrought on Germany by ceaseless formations of bombers. It was then that he learned of the bombs that missed their targets. Bombs that landed on schools and churches instead of factories and military positions. He was never worth a damn after he came back home, or so I'm told. I do know that he never had a job in all the years I knew him and he made his way, for the most part, through the kindness of family. All the same, I marveled at him during holiday gatherings and surrendered to his tales of adventure. He died from complications arising from an automobile accident in 2005, shortly after Veteran's Day.

Men like Bush and Schwarzenegger exhibit traits not altogether different than those of your run of the mill psychopath. They are men that don't, or won't, consider consequences when making a decision. They are 'big picture' types that can't be bothered with details or outcomes because, like greedy two-year-olds with unlimited resources, they must act. This is honored in our society as "decisiveness." And indeed, why should they be bothered? Their reality is made for them. Men like my great-uncle were rendered perpetually indecisive as a result of shaping that reality.

About the same time my great uncle was ferrying the brass over what had been Germany, in Japan, a whole city called Hiroshima was wiped from existence by one bomb. As Emperor Hirohito witnessed his reality collapsing, he retreated into the fantasy of ego, turning his attentions to preserving the cultural and religious icons that justified his monarchy -- assorted trinkets which supposedly dated from time immemorial and were scattered about his island kingdom in various temples -- rather than consider the terms of surrender put forth by the Allies. Another city would have to be sacrificed upon the altar of industrial warfare before he would convince his ministers to concede defeat.

And so we come to George Bush on November 11, 2005, when he chose to forego the tradition of placing a wreath at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier on the one day of the year dedicated to the men and women that would shape his reality, if only they could, for the sake of a poll-boosting pledge to amend the U.S. Constitution to ban the burning of the flag, that tangible icon of this American experience that binds our nation together, and, more precisely, to its figurehead, the president. He wrapped himself in the shroud of Old Glory and waited for political resurrection while my great-uncle withered and died, unknown to all but his family.

My great-uncle was piloting the B-17 you see in the upper left corner of this picture. It can be found on page 140, introducing the chapter titled 'Impious War.'...more

Esteban del MalYeah. I guess it's easy for them since nobody even thinks about the wars anymore. Or the veterans after they've taken our bullets.
Sep 12, 2011 01:49PM

Noran Miss PumkinThank you for sharing your family's story. My daughter will live in a time, where she will read stories of the last veterans of WW-ll, Korea, andThank you for sharing your family's story. My daughter will live in a time, where she will read stories of the last veterans of WW-ll, Korea, and Vietnam. I knew as a child, a remaining Civil War vet-served as a kid being an adult, and many WWI vets, including my grandfather. I try to spend time, during my ER shifts, meeting the aged vets-listening to them. Thanking them for their service. One family told me, it was the first time they heard their father speak of the war at all. No one expects a plumb, late forties white Midwestern nurse-to know military history-no less care about their experiences. Last weekend-Korean vets-2. One had been in a Japanese interment camp during WWII, with his family. For those not know US history--these camps were in the US-and took citizens from homes/lives/land/etc-put them into camps. We did this not to any other nationality!...more
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Sep 12, 2011 02:19PM

There's a lot to like about this book. To me, it is written the way a popular history ought to be written. It is well-researched, but is very readable, telling the history of the B-17 through stories of the men who built and flew it.

The first time I encountered Flying Fortress was as a child -- it was my Dad's book -- and I was fascinated by the pictures and learned a bit by reading the captions. As an adult, I bought my own copy and started in with the text itself. What I like best about it isThere's a lot to like about this book. To me, it is written the way a popular history ought to be written. It is well-researched, but is very readable, telling the history of the B-17 through stories of the men who built and flew it.

The first time I encountered Flying Fortress was as a child -- it was my Dad's book -- and I was fascinated by the pictures and learned a bit by reading the captions. As an adult, I bought my own copy and started in with the text itself. What I like best about it is that by telling the stories of the pivotal role played by the many men involved with the manufacture and operation of the B-17's, it demonstrates quite clearly how history is made by the actions of individuals. The stories themselves are harrowing, blood-chilling dramas -- none-the-less for the fact that they are true. It helps give an appreciation, like so few World War II history books do, for the excitement and horror of warfare.

Something else I like about Flying Fortress -- still -- are the pictures and supplemental information (including a reduced-size copy of a flight manual). Edward Jablonski collected these photographs and other information from official sources, as well as individuals. I expect you will not see them anywhere else. For years now, most cable channel history programs have recycled the same photographs and videos and simply put them to new music and voice-overs. Very economical for their business model, I expect. Jablonski, on the other hand -- writing back in the early 1960's -- was very particular in his selections. Each photo tells its own story, and most of the photos depict the stories told in the text.

This book, both long ago and now, have kindled in me a love and appreciation for aviation, history, ingenuity, and human daring. And the best part is that it's all true....more

Sometimes history is best viewed through a single window, and the development and manning of these storied planes during WWII is a testament to that approach. I devoured every detail of this book many times down to the official training diagrams and cutaways of the plane in the appendices. I was mesmerized as a 6th grader and still am today. What I would really love to know is on the cover photo: Is that plane landing toward you or away from you. Tried many times to figure that out...

'Flying Fortress', Edward Jablowski,1965. For those in the know, this book needs no introduction. In preparation for taking a little joy ride in the "Yankee Lady" -a restored Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress, Idusted off my cherishedfirst edition. There are few books that I feel are worth reading twice. This is one of them. I found it just as riveting now,as I did when I was sixteen. Jablowski's"Flying Fortress"is a true classic.

'Flying Fortress', Edward Jablowski, 1965. For those in the know, this book needs no introduction. In preparation for taking a little joy ride in the "Yankee Lady" -a restored Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress, I dusted off my cherished first edition. There are few books that I feel are worth reading twice. This is one of them. I found it just as riveting now, as I did when I was sixteen. Jablowski's "Flying Fortress" is a true classic.

Just thinking of what went into this airplane at the point in history when it was conceived and manufactured, and the crews that flew them is just remarkable. A very important chapter in aviation well documented. I bought this book during the 80's at the now legendary Economy Bookstore in Syracuse, glad to have had it all these years.